


Wistful Thinking

by hannelore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_silencio, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, No Dialogue, Sexual Fantasy, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 17:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2515625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannelore/pseuds/hannelore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Harry has come to 12 Grimmauld Place, Sirius has been preoccupied with his fantasies about Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wistful Thinking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts).



> Many thanks to Nox for such an amazing fest and to my wonderful beta, pauraque!

Sirius isn't surprised at the outcome of the trial. Of course Harry's gotten out of yet another scrape, just as James would have. Sirius watches as Harry seems happy but dazed, looking from one person to the next as if it's not really true.

Harry's gaze falls on Sirius and Sirius musters up a pale grin. But there's something confusing in the look that Harry returns him. Sadness? Sirius can't sustain the smile but fortunately Harry gets pulled away by someone else. For a moment, Sirius allows himself to think that Harry _would_ have wanted to stay with him instead of going to school if the outcome had been different.

Sirius slips into a vision where he sees Harry waving goodbye to Ron and Hermione as he stands at Sirius's side on the front steps of Grimmauld Place. Everyone is smiling; surely even Remus would feel safe in the knowledge that even if Harry had to go underground to escape, he'd be in good company. There would be times they could be alone.

The children crowd around Harry again, the commotion interrupting Sirius's fantasy as he is forced to see they how relieved they are that Harry will be returning to Hogwarts.

Sirius leaves the room. He is out of breath once again. It's the mould in the air, that's all it is.

\---

Sirius sits in the kitchen, the dregs in his mug gone cold hours ago. Everyone has gone to bed, which is preferable to how crowded the house has become. When Harry arrived, the air was breathable again.

He feels the flush rise to his cheeks when he thinks of Harry, pressing the mug to his forehead as if it could cool him. When he's alone, Sirius thinks about the last time he touched Harry. The brief embraces, a squeeze of the arm, but it doesn't sate his desire. Sirius is envious of how open Molly can be with her love for Harry; a mother's love. No one thinks twice about those hugs, eyes so full of kindness. A jealous fist closes tightly around his yearning, more painful than the lust.

The way Harry looks to Remus as a _grown-up_ makes Sirius feel more useless. Sirius swallows hard, letting the bitterness creep up his spine. Harry should be looking up to Sirius as a mentor. _James_ would want Harry to look up to Sirius. The guilt infects the fantasy that had played in his mind. In his mind's eye, Harry now looks up at Sirius not with arousal but pity.

Sirius picks up the mug, meaning to fling it across the room -- but that will bring Kreacher or other unwanted company. He sets the mug down in the sink, his hand trembling.

\---

Lying in his childhood bed, Sirius touches his fingers to the wall, closing his eyes and imagining himself traveling through the tattered wallpaper. Spider-like, he trails along doors and hallways until he comes to where Harry is sleeping. Sirius imagines Harry lying in his bed. He's probably awake, maybe staring at the ceiling. Harry's emotions are always close to the surface, whether he's angry or delighted. Sirius tells himself Harry is a lot like him, that he can understand Harry when others cannot.

Sirius screws his eyes more tightly, a small ball of pleasure flutters in his chest as he imagines Harry also turning toward the wall. Harry would be smiling, of course. A secret, private smile as his fingers reach out. Sirius traces a finger along the twisted vines of the faded wallpaper, his chest rising and falling quickly. He sees Harry's smile become more relaxed. Of course Harry is thinking the same thing he is; Sirius always knew what James was thinking, what James would want. He fancies he knows Harry's thoughts just as well. Sirius reaches down to his trousers and loosens them just a little, enough room for a hand to slip inside.

Sirius imagines Harry's look of innocent surprise, surely he's thought of such things? Sirius imagines Harry wants him to be in control, something solid in the turmoil of his life. The thought makes his prick harder than before. Sirius imagines how Harry would stroke it. He'd be gentle, maybe a little fascinated, never having touch a grown man's prick before.

Suddenly, there's a loud snort from the bedroom next door and Sirius freezes -- the faint creak of bedsprings-- then silence again.

The wall feels cold now. Sirius presses his palm against it as if he could bring the sensation back again. Feeling silly, he turns away from the wall, his cheeks flush with embarrassment. The ache he feels now is disappointment, tinged with longing.

\---

When they learn that Ron and Hermione have become prefects in the coming school year, Harry's disappointment is palpable to Sirius until Harry learns that James himself was never a prefect. Sirius can't help but feel delighted too when Harry's brightens up at the memory of James.

Harry's eyes soften when he thinks on his parents, something that makes him look child-like and vulnerable. Sirius tears his gaze away from the top of Harry's shirt, the way he is so messily dressed. Harry's shirttails are untucked and Sirius fails to keep himself from thinking about putting his hands up underneath Harry's shirt, stroking his skin.

His arousal gets only worse as they are seated next to each other at the table and Sirius can see how close his arm is to Harry's as they share the crowded bench. After Harry helps himself to the mashed potatoes, he passes the bowl to Sirius. Sirius takes it from him, his fingers accidentally brushing against Harry's.

Sirius watches Harry register the sensation, his eyes widening in more surprise than he should have at the simple jostling. Flustered, Sirius can't help glancing across the table to see if anyone noticed. Even if his guilty look went unnoticed, Harry has already broken away and has his head down toward his food.

Sirius sets the bowl down, his heart heavy with regret. If only he had looked a little longer... he glances over to Harry again but Harry has already been drawn into another conversation. The moment is lost.

\---

The night before the children are due back at school, Sirius thinks about leaving. The house belongs to the Order now, it's not really his and he doesn't want to be here anyway. Without Harry, is it even worth staying?

He could go back to Hogsmeade. It would be better to scavenge for rats and live in the Shrieking Shack then to be well fed by a his mother's house-elf. He could write to Harry. He'd find some way to have him come out and visit good old Snuffles.

Sirius rummages around in an old desk, looking for parchment and quill. Remus will be furious, but Sirius doesn't care. He's already too sure that Remus suspects something. He can read Sirius like a book, he's had enough practice. Sirius was sure Remus could smell the jealousy on him -- the way Remus had been able to _live_ at Hogwarts and see Harry daily while Sirius suffered in Azkaban. There's no one Sirius can confess to, least of all Remus. To admit such fantasies. One such fantasy comes to Sirius's mind without warning. The thought of undoing Harry's trousers -- Sirius now imagines their first time not gentle and slow, but a fuck borne out of urgency and need -- both of them unable to deny their feelings for each other.

Sirius clutches his chest, heart pounding like he's about to faint. He leans over the desk and finds what he was looking for. The blank parchment taunts him, as if it knows of Sirius's cowardice. He sees an image of Harry's face against the parchment. As he climbs the stairs to bed, Sirius knows the real reason he can't leave is because Harry would be angry that Sirius fled. He wouldn't understand the reasons why, he would only think Sirius as selfish. Better to stay and be good. To have Harry think well of him.

There will be more time.

\---

As a dog, Sirius can look freely upon Harry. The air feels good in his fur and he capers around on the way to the train station, just to make Harry laugh. Harry scratches the tops of his head and it feels _wonderful_. The entire world is bright with smells and sensations as if it was created just for the two of them. When he wags his tail and looks at Harry, the longing he feels is no longer desperate or alarming, but is the love that humans can never hope to feel. Harry is the warmth of the sun on his shaggy coat, the sensation of the grass beneath his paws. Harry is _his_ , Sirius is sure of this now.

When the train starts to pull away from the station, Sirius bounds after it. He sees Harry watching him and he feels as if he could run forever. He skids to a stop at the end of the platform, watching until the train rounds the corner and is gone.

The smell of Harry is still in his nose, his dog's nose, and he smells of home. Not Grimmauld Place, not Hogwarts, but the secret imaginary home that Harry and Sirius will live in when this is all over.


End file.
